


Perfect as You Are

by koalawhisperer



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Body Image, But Laf makes it better, F/M, Fluff, Negative Talk, Reader has image issues, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalawhisperer/pseuds/koalawhisperer
Summary: The reader has made great strides in improving her self-esteem, but a bit of comparison has her heading down old trains of thought. Fortunately, Lafayette is there to help her out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this one is extremely personal to me. I've struggled with these same issues for all of my adolescent and adult life. I'm hoping that by writing this, I can help both myself and someone else. Everything the reader says is something I have said to myself.

You stood there, staring at your reflection in your full-length mirror with a deep frown on your face as you poked and prodded at your midsection and examined your arms. Today was not a good day. You'd been to the gym, which normally didn't bother you, but today, you'd ended up beside the fittest woman you'd ever seen in your life, and it had gotten to you. Flat abs, toned arms and legs, the whole nine yards. You'd struggled with image issues for most of your adolescent and adult years, but you'd come a long way in your recovery. You'd learned to accept your body and its flaws and realized that the people in magazines were heavily Photoshopped and that nobody actually looked like that. But today, comparing her body to yours had really bothered you.

You didn't have perfectly toned abs, though none would really call you fat. Your arms weren't tereribly flabby, but they weren't like hers either. Neither were your calves and thighs. Weren't thigh gaps sexy now? You sure as hell didn't have one. You had to look like her. That, combined with society's pressure to have the perfect body made you exceedingly critical of your appearance. You pinched at your side and tugged at the skin with a groan. You just had a small bit of skin between your fingers, but it still bothered you.You were physically strong and healthy, but that wasn't enough. You needed to be smaller. Toned. Like... like that woman who could've been in the Olympics. You were at a healthy weight for your body type, but that didn't matter. You heaved a heavy sigh. You hated feeling like this. 

Someone else hated it just as much, if not more than you did. Your boyfriend Lafayette. He'd been a huge help in changing how you saw yourself, doing everything in his power to show you just how beautiful you were, both inside and out. You'd come so far since you'd met him, befriended him, and become his girlfriend. Where you'd previously refrained from posting selfies, you now regularly posted them on your Instagram and blog. Even when you were dressed in your lazy clothes with messy hair and no makeup. You gave yourself compliments on your appearance whereas before, you had nothing but negativity. Laf understood that you'd slide on occasions, but that didn't stop it from making his heart ache when it happened. He just wanted you to be happy and to see yourself the way he and the rest of your friends saw you. As a beautiful, kind, talented, and loving person. He came into the bedroom you shared and stood in the doorway, keeping quiet as he listened to your negative self-talk.

“God. I'm so fucking fat. I shouldn't have let myself eat so badly this week. All those treats at work because of that fucking bake sale, and then going out with (Y/BF/N) for dinner... god. It's awful. I'll make up for it. I won't rest this week. An hour of exercise every day. And no treats. I can't have them. I don't deserve them. Not when I look like this. Not when I can feel myself gaining weight and when I don't look like...”

Finally, Lafayette had had enough. “Mon chéri, please stop. None of what you are saying is true, and you know it.”

The familiar soft French accent jolted you out of your thoughts, and you turned around to find Laf looking at you with a slightly disapproving look on his face. You felt so ashamed. You knew Laf wouldn't lie to you, but in times like this, your mind wouldn't let you believe anything but negativity. You hated making Laf feel bad, but when you'd struggled with this for so long, it was always possible for something to trigger your old train of thought. You shook your head and looked down at the floor. You couldn't look at him. Not when you felt like this. How could he not see that you were disgusting? That he needed to be with literally anyone other than you? 

“Yes, it is,” you said sadly as you tried to cover your body with your arms. You seemed so much smaller, shoulders hunched and body drawn in on itself instead of exuding confidence like you had been lately. Laf was a very confident man, and being around him so much had made some of it rub off on you, contributing to your improved self-esteem. But now, your old habits had returned and it was as though you'd gone back to the beginning. 

“Look at me,” you continued, eyes still on the floor. “I – Laf – how can – I don't understand why you think I'm so...so pretty. I'm not... I'm average at best. Less than, even...”

You made to continue, but Laf cut you off with all the coolness his nearly royal upbringing had given him. He was always extremely patient with you, and this was no exception. “(Y/N), I am looking at you. And what I see is a work of art. Magnifique. ((Magnificent.)) Perfect just the way she is.”

“You're just saying those things to flatter me.”

Laf frowned at you and shook his head. “Have I ever told you something just to flatter you?” he asked.

You shook your head, knowing he had you there. Laf had never been anything but honest with you, telling you what you needed to hear when you needed to hear it. It was one of the many things that you loved about him. You heard his steps fall lightly onto the floor as he made his way over to you, and you opened your eyes as he gently lifted your chin so he could look into your eyes. Even in your bad mood, you couldn't help but give a weak smile when you met Laf's gaze. He was so handsome, from his mane of curls that he usually kept pulled back to his big brown eyes and full lips and everything else about him. And he'd chosen you. In that moment, you didn't see why. 

“Exactly,” Lafayette said softly as he moved his hand to stroke your cheek. You leaned into his touch and let it provide a bit of comfort. “Now. Allow me to show me just what I love about each and every part of you, s'il vous plaît. I do not like seeing you like this.”

“I know you don't,” you said as you watched Laf pull away and rummage through the nightstand on his side of the bed. More specifically, the drawer where you kept the toys and things that you used during sex. “But babe, I don't... I'm not up to what you're thinking. Not now...”

You groaned as Laf seemed to ignore you only to turn around with your blindfold in his hand. “Did you not hear me?” you said, irritation seeping into your voice. Was he really going to try? If he was, you had to admit that you were disappointed. He was always so considerate, never starting sex unless he knew that you were 100% into it. So what was this all about? “What the fuck?” You narrowed your eyes and folded your arms, ready to stand your ground. 

Laf was cool and collected. “I thought you knew me better than that, (Y/N). You know good and well that I would never do anything you did not want,” he said patiently. “I have something in mind for you that I believe will help you. But yes, the blindfold is necessary. You must trust me.”

You took a deep breath and ran a hand through your hair as you pondered over the situation. Laf had never intentionally hurt you unless you'd consented to some rough play in bed. And even then, he'd always made sure to take care of you afterwards, tending to any bite marks or scratches he'd left. You trusted him with your life. He'd earned your trust. You looked up at Lafayette and nodded once. You trusted him here too. Laf smiled and kissed you softly before carefully slipping the blindfold over your eyes.

And after that, you were lost, relying on your other senses to guide you through this. You heard the sound of something uncapping. It wasn't a bottle. It was something else, but what? And you smelled something. Something strong. Something you'd used before.You took another sniff and wrinkled your nose as the powerful scent registered in your brain. It was a marker. What the hell was Laf doing with a marker? You felt a slight pressure on your left shoulder and registered it as his hand. Okay. And then you felt something much smaller press against your skin. Small and a bit wet.

“Laf, what the?” you asked, but he softly shushed you.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Let me do this. You will see.”

You shifted a bit where you stood, the lack of sight making you a little anxious. But then, you felt something new and unfamiliar. Something cold pressing on your skin and moving in... what was it? Swirls? The cold feeling was gone soon after you felt it on your skin. Okay, so it was something wet that dried very quickly. But what could the swirls be? Was he drawing on you? Why would he draw pictures to help you feel better about your body? That couldn't be it. You thought for a moment, focusing on nothing but the swirls, and it hit you.

He wasn't drawing on you.

Lafayette still wrote in cursive, a remnant of his upbringing. The swirls were his handwriting as he formed letters and words

He was writing on your skin. 

As soon as you realized what was going on, you felt your heart swell. This was so romantic, somehow even more so than hearing him just say those words to you. He was like an author, and your body was his muse. You let your muscles relax as you began to enjoy the scenario, Laf's hand pressing gently on you to keep you steady as he meticulously wrote something on each part of your body. You even let yourself laugh when the marker's tip tickled you. You felt Laf write all over your skin, and by the end of it, you were smiling. Each bit of writing was something that your boyfriend loved about you. Something good about your body. You were on bated breath as you felt Laf kiss you, returning the soft kiss and letting him remove the blindfold.

What you saw took your breath away and made tears spring to your eyes. Your hand went up to your mouth as you read what he'd written and it all sunk in. There... he saw good in your body. Even what you hated, he saw good in it. 

“Let me start with these eyes,” Laf said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your temple.“These eyes, mon amour, are gorgeous. You may think they are boring, but non. They are not. They show everything you are feeling, happy or sad. Angry or calm. And when I look into them, I lose myself in your beautiful soul.”

“Babe...” You began, your voice choked with emotion as he hugged you.

“These arms,” Lafayette continued as he rubbed your shoulders and upper arms, ghosting over the word 'strong' on your right arm and 'gentle' on your left. “These arms are so strong. They can carry so much. But at the same time, they are gentle. Capable of showing so much love in just a simple embrace. That is the love I feel whenever we are... how you say? Cuddling. Or when we are in each other's arms in bed.” 

You giggled and nodded at him. You found it quite endearing when he couldn't quite find the right English word for what he wanted to say. And the bed remark, well. You knew what he was talking about there. When you took things slowly and gently, when you made love instead of taking things roughly. 

He stopped to take your hands in his. “And your hands are so soft. They are gentle when we touch or when you show affection. They create so much. Your music. Your words when you write. They create so much art. Your hands are lovely. Elegant.”

Laf let go of your hands and moved his hands to your stomach. The one part you hated most about yourself and the one you'd compared to the girl's at the gym. You looked just below his hands and saw the word he'd written.

Perfect. 

You shook your head.

“Yes, mon cher. I meant that word. I know how much you loathe this part of your body, but to me it is perfect as it is. It shows that you are healthy. That you take good care of yourself. You eat properly. You exercise. And it shows here,” Laf said softly as he gently pressed his hands against your stomach. “That is what matters to me. That you are healthy.”

By now, tears streamed freely down your face, tears of happiness and love and gratitude. This man behind you had done all of this, had shown that yes, he really did feel this way about you and your body. Whatever you'd done to deserve Lafayette, you were beyond glad that you'd done it. You watched him in the mirror as he knelt down, his hands resting on your thighs, where he'd written 'gorgeous'. 

“These legs are gorgeous,” he said as you dried your eyes. “Thigh to calf to foot. They are shapely. Long and lean. The sort of feature that people back in France would envy. I would not be surprised if women here did not envy them as well. And they do so much for you. Keeping you standing. Getting you from place to place. They are exquisite.”

By the time he was done, you were full-on crying, vulnerable, needing to feel Laf's arms around you. You turned around, pressed yourself against his body and sobbed, getting out all of your emotion. The gratitude. The overwhelming amount of love you felt for him. And when his arms slid around you and hugged you tightly, you felt safe. Home. You stayed in his embrace until your tears ran dry, pulling back to look up at him and smiling as he dried your eyes and brushed over your cheek with his thumb

“There is that smile,” Laf said lovingly. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mmhm,” you said quietly, emotion taking a lot out of your voice. “I – Laf. I can't thank you enough. This means so much to me.”

“You have no need to thank me. I just want to help you see yourself as I see you. Beautiful just as you are.”

You nodded up at Lafayette and kissed him softly. Should this ever happen again, you'd have a wonderful memory that would help you through it. But for now, you were content to just revel in the love you felt for Laf and the fact that, yes, you were beautiful.  
You said that a lot to yourself.

But this time? After what had just happened?

You meant it.


End file.
